Logan the accomplished liar
by Ophelia Lake
Summary: Logan reaches out to Veronica after being abused by his father one too many times. mentions of abuse, thoughts of suicide, minimal language. this is my first fic, I don't have a beta yet, and I don't own Veronica Mars.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

What makes a person? For the millionth time Logan found himself looking into the mirror, searching his features hidden under the bruises and blood. Am I what people see on the outside, money, flash, supposed new girl every night? Or am I another version of _him?_ Is it genetics or environment?

His lips twisted sarcastically at that thought. If that was the case then either way he was screwed. Tiredly he crossed over to his bed and attempted to find any position amidst the soft sheets that didn't hurt. His face was bad enough, but his back.. Well that was where the real agonizing white hot lances of mind numbing pain where radiating from. Always with the belt. Logan closed his eyes remembering…

"_Logan," called his father using the deceptively calm tone of Aaron Echools the actor instead of the derisive mocking tone he usually wore in his monotonous role as father. _

_ Logan flinched when he heard his voice at the entry way to the room but didn't stop playing his game to turn around. "What," he asked hoping it would be simple and he would just go away. _

_ "When I asked you to live up to the Echools name and be responsible perhaps I wasn't clear enough on the issue."_

_ Logan closed his eyes, this sounded as if it was going to get ugly, well old habits died hard and Logan refused to go out without a bang. "Just what have I done now Daddy Dearest? Was it my drunken malarkey or my sober malarkey? Ohh I know maybe it was when I slept with your agent and your accountant all in the same night in your bed." All of a sudden his head was reeling back and the taste of his own blood filled his mouth, the metallic tint a familiar flavor. His father leered over him all the while still wearing the calm mask reserved for his "father son" chats. Aaron reached down and grabbed his son by the hair._

_ "What have I told you about being respectful son? Now I know boys will be boys and you have every right to try out a few girls but discretion Logan, discretion is paramount. Aaron tossed his son roughly to the floor and punctuated his next few words with harsh kicks into Logan's ribs. "Never get caught. Every sordid thing which gets thrown in the public eye threatens this family's image and income. Remember that the next time you enjoy flaunting your perks."_

_ "Awww but dad, really how was I supposed to know she had a camera? She was too busy screaming about how the newer model handled like a dream, all throttle and no breaks." He spat blood out and sat there staring at his father, watching as he began to pull of his belt one slow inch at a time."_

_ "You know son, you just never learn."_

Wincing Logan rolled slightly to his side ignoring the tenderness in his ribs. He reached under his bed for the trusty bottle of Jack and sardonically toasted himself. "Bottoms up Echolls" he murmured.

Sometime later when the significant amount of alcohol humming through his blood numbed the burning welts on his back, Logan stirred. Now it didn't bother him so much anymore because now it seemed kind of funny. He looked in the mirror again and all he saw was a laughing boy weaving in the reflection. Well good then he told himself, if I'm laughing then it must be okay. Dad doesn't really hate me, no he does this because he loves me, it's his way of teaching me life's hard lessons. That thought in of itself was enough to send Logan into fits of hysterical laughter and cause him to fall of the bed. Rolling around the floor he wiped the tears off his cheeks barely noticing when his fingers came away muddy brown from the waterworks making winding trails through the dried blood on his face. Somewhere along the way he had just forgotten to care. .

Lynn Echolls paused outside her son's bedroom door. Realistically she knew as his mother she should be in there comforting him, he was only 16 after all. Of course any mother worth her salt, or in Lynn's case her martini olive, wouldn't allow this to happen at all. Somehow though she couldn't bring herself to cross the threshold and inspect for herself the damage she knew firsthand Aaron was capable of inflicting. She briefly wondered when the last time she had taken care of her son was and thought maybe it was years ago. Instead she let the clinking of the ice cubes in the short glass distract her and she turned to leave as if she'd never even been there in the first place. On a well practiced teeter she wobbled down the hall on prada heels and never once looked behind her.

Veronica sat her desk typing away at the key board when the sound of her phone ringing interrupted her train of thoughts. She saved the last bit of evidence she had been logging under her personal Lilly Kane murder investigation file and looked at the caller id. Although that number had been erased from her contact list a year and a half ago she immediately recognized the number. She set the phone back down on the desk without answering it. What, was Logan calling to torture her over the phone now too? Momentarily the phone stopped and then instantly started up again. It was the same number. Veronica shoved down the ball of ice which seemed to lodge in the pit of her stomach whenever she had to have unavoidable confrontations with Logan, a member of her old group. Angrily she answered the phone. "What," asked Veronica her voice laced with the appropriate venom for her now mortal enemy?

"Hey Ronnikins," slurred a very drunk Logan Echolls.

Veronica sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. Bitter angry resentful Logan she could have handled but drunk Logan. This was unexpected and she didn't like surprises. In the past she had dealt with him and his many bouts of intoxication before deftly navigating the pendulum of emotive triggers behind the indulgences. But now, why would he reach out to her now?

"I don't know what sick joke you're trying to pull but I would appreciate it if you would leave me alone. I can smell your breath all the way through the phone and used rum just isn't as sexy as you might think it is."

"Don't worry Ver- Ronica," Logan over pronounced, "I was just calling to say goodbye. I was sitting here thinking who all I needed to say goodbye to and then I realized there's no one left. Except you," he mumbled quietly.

Veronica was already grabbing her keys and stepping into her shoes. She did not like where this conversation was headed. He might have been the school's biggest asshole but once upon a time he was one of her closest friends and from the sound of it things were really bad. "Logan tell me where you are and I'll come to you so we can talk in person okay."

"Lily's gone, Duncan's here but he's checked out, my family…well they left for daddy's new movie location tonight but I'm actually glad about that one." Veronica heard him take a moment to take another drink and then he spoke again. "When it all gets right down to it you are the only one left who knows me, who might appreciate a goodbye. Of course I did spend a long time making you miserable so if you want to hang up now it's cool. I'm ready."

Feeling a panic slither up her spine and lodge itself in her throat only urged Veronica to move faster. She jumped in the car and threw the engine to life all the while balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, listening to Logan's ragged breathing and sloppy gulping coming out of the tiny speaker.

"Logan, are you at home because it won't take me very long to get there. I'll be there soon and then you can tell me how much you hate me in person."

"I'm just so tired Ronnie, so damn tired." The stark utter hopelessness emanating out of his voice was heartbreakingly palpable in its' sincerity.

Veronica pushed the pedal as fast as she dared, thankful for the almost empty streets. Scenery flew by outside her windows, dull and lifeless against the starless night.

"This is not a home Ronica, this is a temple to the great and worthy Aaron Echolls and the rest of us just worship here, well and most importantly pay penance here." His voice drifted down, became more muffled as he mumbled, "penance no we can't ever forget about that."

Veronica pulled into the long winding driveway and slammed on the breaks. The house looked as formidable as it always did. Larger than life, in your face rich and completely unapologetic about it. She stood on the steps briefly frozen, remembering what it has felt like to be brutally ostracized, but then she heard Logan making noises which sounded strangely like repressed sobs and she opened the door. Logan had been awful to her, god awful downright horrible. But he had been one of her closest friends, a part of the most important group of people in her life and having had to go through Lily being violently ripped away. Well, bygones aside, she just couldn't handle any more death.

"I'm right here Logan. I just came into the downstairs," she said reassuringly compelling him to feel her intent to help him. Taking the stairs two at a time, she forced her shorter legs to race up the steps until she found herself standing outside the bittersweet familiarity of Logan's door. Ohh it hurt to think of the last time she'd been here.

Hesitantly she pushed the door open and gasped at the site that greeted her. Her phone slipped from her clammy hands and landed on the clothing strewn carpet below. She actually pushed her trembling fingers to her mouth as if she could physically hold back the stinging bile rushing up from her stomach.

"Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod"

"No," answered Logan from his prone position, "if there is even a God, I just don't think he cares."


	2. Chapter 2

AN I: So I had this story started on my computer for forever, finally tried to get it out and finish it. I really struggled with the 'voice and tine" of their relationship. Their so witty, I hope I didn't mangle it. I don't own anything, except the mistakes. Those are all mine.

Veronica stared at Logan, tears falling, the salt burning her chapped lips. He was covered in bruises and blood, lying on the floor, one elegant hand wrapped loosely around the mostly empty fifth of liquor.

"I think," he began "I miscalculated with the self-anesthetic." At this Logan tried to raise the bottle to his lips but it slipped through his numb fingers and tipped uselessly onto the plush carpet.

"Huhhh," he slurred, looking at her quizzically. "Did you see that? Me and my innate grace are no match for your talent sucking aura." He tripped over the words a bit, his mouth pouting slightly at his less than stellar control.

Veronica couldn't believe her eyes, desperately didn't want to, but there he was grinning up at her, blood and teeth a ghoulish representation of half chewed peppermints. The words tumbled around her brain, fighting for purchase to be the first out of her mouth. Always blunt, Veronica said the first thing that popped into her mind.

"Oh Logan, what happened."

"Walked into a wall."

"Logan, seriously."

"Fell down the stairs."

"Logan…"

"Ohh I got this, a little trite I know, but I think I have the pizazz to pull it off. Wait for it … wait for it." He rolled over dramatically and peered up at Veronica through half closed eyes. "The dog ate my homework."

Veronica fought back the urge to scream at the incredulity of it all. Instead she crouched down next to Logan, centering her petite frame until they were almost eye level. "You called me remember" she prodded.

"Thought I imagined that," he murmured. "You're not here for a sexy strip tease are you, dance the hula, maybe balance a coconut on your head?"

She just looked at him.

"Okay, definitely imagined that, then."

Logan had always seemed so larger than life to Veronica. He was always there, in her face, present and accounted for; even as an enemy or a friend. She couldn't picture what it would take to bring Logan to his knees. She was however grateful that he had seemed to forget about his earlier phone call and his previous inclination to end it all. She may have mixed and bitter feelings regarding Logan but the implication of his drunken phone call was a bridge she didn't _ever _want to have to cross.

"Logan, who did this, are we safe here?" she questioned.

He laughed then, bloody spittle dripping down his split lips. God, it was a horrible sound, brittle and empty.

"Yeah," Logan managed to get out around the shaking of his shoulders. "You're safe here."

Veronica noticed he failed to include himself in that statement. She eyed him critically trying to figure out what her first step should be. Hospital was definitely high up on the list. The press would have a field day and she couldn't quite bring herself to do that to Logan.

Bandage him up herself then, have a look see and get a better idea of the damage.

"Logan, I need you to sit up. I need to take a look at your injuries." He looked at her, startled, and for a moment fear raged rampant in his stare. He reached one hand awkwardly to fist in his shirt, keeping it close to his body.

"Nope," he breathed. "Gotta protect my virtue around you, Ronnica. No Logan party pack for you…" He reached his other hand up and waggled his fingers in her face, absently hitting her chin, as he clucked his tongue in an uncoordinated display of disapproval. "No sampling the goods."

Veronica wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Honestly, Logan how much have you had to drink? Do I need to worry about alcohol poisoning?"

"Nope, we Echolls are long time standing alcoholics. I can hold my liquor just fine."

"Well, I remember you being a more affable, happy drunk."

"Now, I'm morosely verbose… or is it verbosely morose. I can never remember." Logan shifted and restlessly sprawled in a sitting position, his lack of grace more from the spinning room then any pain from his wounds. "You should be writing this down," he suggested conversationally. He scooted so they were sitting knees to knees. "My words of wisdom could someday bring you fortune; maybe get out of the 02 district. Reach high Veronica, aim for an 05."

"Uhhh huh," she responded dryly. "Still got your snarky wits around you, I see. Let's get you cleaned up, Logan. Then you can sleep it off."

Logan bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. "I forgot to take my shift off earlier, I think it's going to be stuck."

"Oo-kay," Veronica blew out a strained breath and considered the new problem. "Think you can stand up, cause I think a shower would be easiest. We'll just get you and the shirt wet, then it should come off."

"How many times do I have to tell you…no you can't get me naked…and no I will not sleep with you no matter how much you beg me" Logan winked as his head bobbed with the exertion required for movement, slowly he pulled himself to all fours, and then precariously to his knees. "I don't do it for charity, it's an art form, a social contribution if you will."

"Need I remind you, you called me, remember. I'll try and control myself. Come on Lothario, stand up on three, okay." Veronica gingerly grabbed Logan under his arms, hesitant to hit a damaged area and cause him more pain.

"One…two…"

That was as far as they got before Logan turned green and threw up all over Veronica's shoes. She jumped, an aborted scream sounding sharp in her ears, and then shoved the small trashcan by the desk under Logan's retching form.

"Oops," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Oh, you so owe me, trust me. This is above and beyond the requirements of an old friendship. Do you want me to call Duncan or Dick?" As she spoke, she kicked off her soiled shoes and maneuvered Logan to the shower. Thankfully he had his own adjoining bath off his disgustingly large and spacious room, so they didn't have far to travel.

"Can't call anyone, shouldn't have called you, but…" he trailed off, "I wasn't thinking again."

Veronica leaned Logan against the wall and reached around him to start the shower. Emotions pulled at her, and tears were constantly threatening to fall. God, sometimes she couldn't even remember how it had all gotten this bad, they used to be all such good friends once. Before Lily… Lily would tell her to stop being stupid. Friends help each other. Even old friends, she supposed, and tested the temperature of the water on her fingers before declaring it ready.

"Even with everything, you can still call me if you need me, if you're hurting. Nobody should have to be hurt and alone."

He didn't answer but the look in his eyes was a mixture between shame, pain, and gratitude. T was an odd combination, one she was sure she had never seen from Logan Echolls before.

Getting Logan into the shower was trickier. He was still too inebriated to safely stand on his own so Veronica ended up under the warm spray, head tucked close to his body, hoping to God he wasn't about to vomit on her again. The water cascaded on them both, raining down, plastering their clothes to their skin and filling the stall with thick steam.

"I think your shirt is wet enough now, let's try and get it off, okay."

Whether the alcohol or the shower had zapped his remaining strength, Logan stood passively and unresisting as Veronica tugged his shirt carefully away from his skin. Her breath caught in her throat and she knew her tears mixed in with the water from the shower. She caught her first look at the damage done to his back. There were welts, thin and long. Some were still sluggishly weeping, others starting to scab. All looked red and angry.

Even as big as a jackass as he'd been, nobody deserved this. Veronica's mind was whirling a mile a minute, the marks look deliberated, methodical; like he'd been whipped, repeatedly. She grabbed a washcloth and dabbed at his face, cleaning off the dried blood on his lips and chin. Logan was quiet now, his eyes dark and unreadable. Veronica didn't speak wither, innately recognizing that this time was too open, too vulnerable, for words between them.

Having deemed Logan as clean as she could get him, she twisted and turned off the water. He sluggishly followed her out of the stall and let her wrap him in a large fuzzy towel.

"Stay here, take off your pants. I'm going to get you clean boxers and pants." Not waiting for an answer she turned and walked out of the room and over to Logan's dresser. Shivering in the air-conditioning and her wet clothes, Veronica grabbed Logan some clean things. Handing them into him, she then turned to grab something for herself, just until her clothes dried and she could get Logan situated and then she could go home. She peeled off her wet clothes and shrugged into one of Logan's shirts. It hit her close to her knees and her teeth chattered as she toweled off her hair.

Veronica tried to ignore the fact that she has just showered wither mortal enemy and instead turned to help him into bed. Logan had managed to slid into the sweatpants, his clean boxers lay discarded on the floor.

"Come on Logan, into bed." She had been intending to get Logan on his stomach so she could dress and bandage the wounds on his back. However Logan had other ideas. He slid into bed and pulled Veronica with him. She ended up curled into Logan, head against his heart, with his arms around her and one leg casually thrown over hers. Veronica remembered Lily complaining he liked to cuddle but this was ridiculous.

"Logan," her words were muffled against his damp chest. "Logan," she tried again, poking him. "You do remember this is Veronica Mars in your bed, right?"

His only response was soft snores.

Great, thought Veronica, how to get out of this one.

AN II: Please review, I really really appreciate it! Thank you for taking the time to read my story.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Wow, it has been forever. Real life has been entirely rigid and unforgiving. Not to mention I had a case of writers block to end all writers block. This is the first thing I have written in months, I don't anything but the mistakes, of which I am sure there are many because grammar and I don't get along. Anyway, sorry for the long wait and I hope I managed to stay in character. I would love to hear any thoughts or constructive criticism you have. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work.

Logan didn't want to wake up. He could tell from the intense pain radiating from his back that daddy dearest had struck again. He also took wobbly stock of the spinning room behind his closed eyelids and the dead animal taste in his mouth, to mean he would have one hell of a hangover to vie for first place on Logan's shit list of annoying discomforts.

What he could not reconcile as normal was the warm soft body he was currently curled against. It just didn't make sense. Logan always kept to himself after one of Aaron's apocalyptic rages; it was kind of hard to keep a secret if it was painted all over your body in angry reds and browns. While it wasn't entirely unusual for him to not remember events from the night before, he never woke up with his conquests.

Not since Lily had he actually slept with someone, fucked sure, but slept next to… never again.

Now he found himself in the awkward position of having to worry about keeping his secret and getting rid of the party favors. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and peered down at the soft blond hair draped over his chest and tickling his nose.

The smell of her shampoo was oddly familiar. And her body was petite. She might have been half draped over Logan's chest, but her feet never even came close to his. She made a soft sound and shifted in her sleep. The ball of mild irritant in Logan's stomach grew to a solid icy dread. He knew that voice.

What the hell was he doing in bed with Veronica Mars?

Logan bit the inside of his cheek, slammed his eyes shut, and tried to breathe calmly through his nose without sounding like a panting bull. His first instinct was to run but Logan tried to stifle his natural inclination to push her away and scramble off the bed. He needed a plan here. Obviously, somehow Veronica had found out his secret.

Veronica… the sarcastic champion of secret reveling… the girl detective. This was so not good.

Except, that it kind of was.

Her body was warm and soft, her hair like silk as it lay against his skin, the smooth texture the direct antithesis to the abraded skin of his back. Logan took a deep breath and let himself savor, just for a moment, the scent of muted vanilla mixing oddly enough with the scent of the detergent Rosa used.

Logan opened his eyes and lifted his head ever so slightly. Awww hell; was she wearing his shirt? Another glance reveled she was wearing _only_ his shirt. He gulped. Well if that wasn't ten shades of awkward and sexy mixed into the snowball from hell.

Veronica shifted, murmuring in her sleep, stretching languidly, arching and rolling like a sun drenched kitten. Logan, panicked and awkward, fell back on a time honored childhood tradition; he quickly shut his eyes and played possum. Years of practice allowed him to keep his breathing deep and even, his muscles relaxed, while he remained alert listening for the slightest sound or movement.

It didn't take long.

Veronica always hated to wake up. She was not a morning person, preferring the nighttime hours to the disgustingly early and bright ones. So, she shifted, and she wiggled, and she snuggled down into the comfort of sleep, resisting waking as she always did. Until it slowly leaked into her consciousness that her bed was all hard planes and angles, and it was breathing.

With a shriek she opened her eyes, the events of the night prior, tumbling through her brain like a kaleidoscope of images. Logan, bleeding and bruised; his eyes sad and empty, the conflicting emotions of fear and old anger spurring her on as she had raced over to the Echolls estate bubbling up into her throat as she got her first good look at Logan. The sick churning in her gut as she realized Logan's well-guarded secret; that Aaron Echolls was a monster.

It took Veronica about three seconds to realize she was draped over Logan like a blanket. Jeez, how awkward was that. She had had no intention of sleeping over, let alone sleeping _in _Logan's bed with Logan. But when he'd needed her, pulling her into his arms for much needed comfort, she'd been helpless to resist. Veronica had planned on leaving once he'd fallen asleep, but somewhere between the warmth of his body and the shaky climb down from all the adrenaline coursing through her body, Veronica had fallen asleep.

She was loath to admit, it was the best sleep she'd gotten in months, not a single nightmare. But she'd rinse her mouth out with fire ants before she's ever admit to that; which leant her to the next hurdle; how to extricate herself without having to participate in any ensuing awkwardness with Logan.

Veronica really hoped Logan was still drunk enough that she could slide off of him without him even waking up. Not to run away, she sternly reminded herself, they still had to deal with the situation of Logan's battered and bruised body, covered in secrets and lies. But they didn't really have to be touching to do that, so…

Mustering her courage, Veronica slowly shifted her hips intending to slide discreetly to the side and maybe roll quietly and gracefully to the floor. She envisioned herself crab crawling to the bathroom, redressing in her clothes, and then waiting in silent support at Logan's desk for him to wake up. Maybe they could discuss things civilly for once. If not she'd just have to call Duncan or Dick.

What actually happened was a lot more mortifying.

Veronica didn't have that much experience with teenage boys; that she could remember anyway. But if you slide your hips like _this, _apparently his hips move like _that…_and oh my god was that what she thought it was poking her in the stomach? Forgetting all about her plan of sneaky ninja like stealth, Veronica screamed and flew backwards, landing in an ungraceful tangle of limbs, Logan's borrowed shirt up around her waist and hair in her eyes.

Shrieking in surprise again, Veronica tugged the shirt down, and lowered her head to her knees.

"Please tell me this is not happening," she mumbled.

"Love to Ronnie, but then I'd have to find a way to tell myself this didn't happen either, and I'm too hung over to expend my valuable energy bull shitting."

Logan shifted, groaning behind clenched teeth, as his skin pulled and muscles screamed. His stomach added to the cacophony of pain, complaining viciously with acid and nauseating rolls. His eyes stung and protested the sun streaming through his bed so vehemently Logan briefly wondered if he had been turned into a vampire last night. Maybe he was still drunk if thoughts like those were rolling around his head, course a vampire could totally kick Aaron's ass; yep, maybe still drunk. But not drunk enough to be numb…God he hurt.

He hung his head over the edge of the bed, intending on making a smart ass remark about Veronica and sex, the football team maybe, he had a huge repertoire to choose from. He needed a distraction and he wasn't about to apologize for his body's natural reaction to a warm female body in bed with him. Hell, after the extensive _lesson_ Aaron had given him in pain and domination, Logan was glad his body could feel any pleasurable sensation. Even if it was awkward as hell with his mortal enemy siting on his floor, surprisingly sexy in his shirt, and blushing a shade reminiscent of the way his blood had looked swirling down the shower drain last night.

The shower….why did he remember the shower….did he shower with Veronica Mars? This whole situation just kept getting weirder and weirder. Maybe he was still asleep, except the best thing about sleeping was he couldn't feel the pain. So definitely awake then…

"You wanna tell me what happened last night," Logan asked seeing no other way to climb out of the stalemate they seemed to have fallen into then to just ask directly. He meant it when he had stated earlier he was just too tired for bullshit.

Veronica lifted her head from her knees and finally met Logan's gaze. "You called me, remember?" she prompted.

"Not really," he answered truthfully. He looked at the empty bottle lying half-hazardly in the corner. "But I guess I was pretty messed up."

"Yeah, you were. Speaking of…what are we going to do about that?"

Logan glanced sharply at Veronica, his neck snapping as quickly as his wounded body would allow, from where he has been studying the empty space above her shoulder. Fuck…that was pity in her big blue eyes. Well fuck that shit and the horse it rode in on cause one thing Logan didn't do was pity. He needed to get their integral dynamic back on track, mortal enemies, constant derision…Jesus, anything but pity.

Gritting his teeth, Logan pushed himself up all the way from the bed, shoving down his involuntary wince of pain.

"So I know how desperate you are, and how pathetically you stalk Duncan, but Ver-Ronica, could you please wait until I've had breakfast before you launch your stanktastic campaign for my affections."

Veronica's mouth dropped open in shock. "Seriously, you ass! You called me; you were threatening to end it all over the phone. When I got here you were laying in a puddle of your own blood."

Suddenly too tired to fight anymore, Logan flopped back down on the bed. "Just go away Veronica. It is what it is, you knowing's not going to change a damn thing, unless maybe make it worse."

"No."

"What," asked Logan, still staring at the ceiling?

"No, I'm not going to let you push me away. There's been enough of that already." Veronica stood up, forgetting she was still in Logan's tee-shirt; her earlier embarrassment washed away by her need to take away the bitter defeated look currently gracing Logan's pained features. She sat next to Logan on the bed, one leg tucked under, her slim knee making skin to skin contact against Logan's black and blue torso.

"No, Logan, I'm not going to leave you. We used to be really good friends once and even with everything that has happened, I'm not going to stand by and let you be hurt."

And there it was, Veronica's pit bull complex rearing its ugly head, thought Logan. He didn't acknowledge her apparently heartfelt yet unrealistic speech. Instead he just closed his eyes and tried to ignore the push of suppressed tears behind his aching lids.

When she slipped her hand in his, Logan refused to acknowledge her. But he didn't push her away either.

Taking it as the silent sigh she hoped it was, Veronica slid all the way down on the bed. This time it was she who wound herself around Logan. She shut her eyes too. She could give him this time to compose himself, draw from her quiet strength. Because when he was steadier, it was game on Aaron Echolls. And Veronica didn't remember how to lose.

AN II: Please, please, please review. I am begging, apparently I have no shame. In all seriousness though, thanks so much for reading. I really appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

AN I: Sorry for the delay, our computer wasn't working. I don't own anything and all mistakes are mine. I would be grateful for any reviews and comments. Thanks again for taking time to read my story. Without further adu…..

The room was darker now, the shadows longer. Veronica had watched them grow from her position, curled against Logan with her head on his chest. Logan had one had arm down by her side, almost holding her, and the other arm thrown over his eyes. He was mumbling something about light burning and vampires earlier but he was quiet now. His chest rose and fell in an easy pattern and Veronica assumed he was asleep again.

But Veronica couldn't sleep. Not with the truth doing kamikaze cartwheels in her brain and the picture of Logan looking so defeated pasted against her eyelids no matter how tight she screwed them shut.

So, other than getting Logan some Tylenol and water a few hours ago, she didn't move.

They didn't talk, ignored each other in fact, which was really impressive because they were wrapped around each other. But they did it.

The room was almost deafening with the silence between them and Veronica found herself routinely biting her lips to hold back the million and one questions she wanted to ask Logan.

Was this the only time he'd been hurt? It was Aaron who was hurting him right? It had to be, what with the way Logan seemed to vacillate between hyper inflated love and vengeful hate for the man. But the worst question, the one keeping her from finding solace in sleep was, why the hell had she never noticed? Why had no one noticed?

And what was she going to do about it?

"I can hear you thinking from here, you're hurting my head."

She smirked against his chest, breathing in the scent of his soap against his skin. "Really Logan, I think that was the alcohol."

"No, it's definitely you. Why are you still here anyway? That desperate to get me into bed Mars?" The tone was shades of his normal snark and she could hear the real question hidden underneath.

Veronica sat up, breaking the avoiding eye contact rule they had been operating under the last several hours. "I told you Logan, no one should ever have to be hurt and alone." He looked away and she gripped his chin softly until his eyes met hers. "I want to help you, it's not right what he's doing to you." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew it was going to be too much too soon. His gaze shuttered, his mouth thinned. Logan pushed her out of the way and launched himself across the room, pacing across the carpet.

"What do you even know about it, huh? It happened, big fucking deal. It happened last week and it'll probably happen next month too. It is what it is and you don't know a god damned thing about it."

Veronica stood up too, hands on her hips. "Maybe I don't know about being abused by your father but I know it's wrong." She walked over and stood directly in front of him. "I know it's wrong Logan and it needs to stop."

Sighing Logan willed himself to calm down. "Look, it's not always, it's not even often. Just when I mess up or he has a bad day, you know a bad movie critique or something. I can handle it and once I turn 18 I'm out of here."

It wasn't often she found herself at a loss of words, devoid of purpose, but she didn't know what to say next. She didn't know how to convince Logan he didn't deserve to be hit. They weren't friends, not anymore, not really. He made fun of her and generally made her life a living hell at school. But, she could remember a time when they were friends, when he would climb in through her bedroom window because he said he was bored and Duncan was boring. Or the way he looked trying to teach her and Lily how to surf, the way the salt water tasted on her tongue and the feel of the warm sun soaking into her skin. How graceful he was and charismatic, and how if he was your friend you came first.

Until you weren't. She spoke without really meaning to, the words welling up from some hidden crevice in her soul. And that was a first, usually she planned out everything. But she realized she was speaking even as her mind stubbornly fought against the ensuing conversation.

"I know what it's like to be hurt and scared and alone. To look into the mirror and realize you will _never_ be the same again. I know what it's like to be damaged." Now it was her turn to look at the floor, the wall, the space by the closet….anywhere but at the boy standing in from of her.

"Who hurt you?" Logan's voice was low and dangerous, almost more growl than anything. It sent a warm feeling coursing through her body, settling in her chest. But that tone couldn't be meant for her, they weren't friends.

"You're missing the point Logan, I understand, and I want to help."

"I don't think I am, who hurt you?" Logan asked again practically biting the words.

Feeling backed into a corner, emotionally and physically, Veronica yelled "who hurt you?"

"See not very much fun, being asked the questions. Not as much fun as being Detective Barbie."

"Jackass."

"Mini ho."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Throwing her hands up, growling in frustration, Veronica stomped back over to the bed and threw herself down.

"Why won't you leave, isn't your dad missing you?"

"Go away, I'm not talking to you."

Logan snorted in disbelief, "this is my room, my house, my shirt actually. You go away, maybe I'm not talking to you."

"Make me"

"Seriously," Logan sighed and flopped down on the bed next to Veronica. "You know," he mused, "this is the longest I've ever spent in bed with a woman and not slept with her."

"Jerk," Instinctively Veronica slapped him in the shoulder, regretting her action when he groaned.

"Owwww, Batilda. I thought we established I'm hurting here."

"Sorry," Veronica muttered trying not to laugh.

Logan shifted on his side, facing Veronica. His eyes were sparkling. "Kiss it and make it better?" he asked.

A warm flush crept up Veronica's body and she flopped around facing the other direction. "Not on your life," she threw over her shoulder completely missing the way Logan was staring at her tee-shirt clad body.

Just then Veronica's stomach chose that moment to do the talking for her, it growled, loudly and awkwardly. She could feel her cheeks heating up the longer the noise went on.

Logan burst out laughing, holding his aching ribs with his arms. "Only you Veronica. I forgot how often we needed to feed you and how much you could fit into that tiny little body."

Veronica shifted to get up and leave. All the emotions and feeling and awkward conversations were making it difficult to think. She would go, take a moment to collect herself, arm herself with her clothes instead of Logan's, and then come back and fight the good fight. She knew now and nothing would change that but Logan didn't have to make it so difficult

"Fine, you win. I'm leaving, but I'm coming back because we need to deal with this." Her voice trailed off into a surprise squeak as her feet left the floor. Suddenly she was in Logan's arms as he effortlessly carried her out of his room and towards the kitchen.

"What," he asked? "Your legs are short and I'm hungry too. Besides, if you leave now in my shirt and nothing else the rumor mill will run itself dry trying to explain your indecent tryst with the infamous Logan Echolls. Eat and we'll wash your clothes. You can leave later under the cover of darkness and all that."

It was on the tip of her tongue to scratch and claw and demand to be put down, but she remembered how often Logan and Duncan used to pick her up and cart her places one crazy whim at a time. And she was hungry, ravenous actually. Maybe he did have a point about the clothes. Wait….. "You know how to do laundry?"

Logan set her on the kitchen counter, laughing. "No, but you do," he answered honestly.

Veronica inwardly groaned, even if he did have a point. She watched him move around the kitchen, getting out the makings for an ice cream extravaganza. Her eyes burned and her throat felt clogged with the memoires of how often the four of them used to pass the time laughing and eating ice cream. He must have remembered too because Logan looked at her and nodded once before resuming his task.

"Dad's out of town," Veronica offered in response to his earlier question.

Logan looked up in surprise. "And he left you all alone by yourself?"

"Well. We gotta eat, he goes where the bail jumpers go. Besides your parents left you here by yourself."

"That's different," protested Logan. He held up the hand not holding the ice cream scoop and proceeded to tick the points off using his fingers. "One, I've been left behind my whole life, when they go to movie locations. It's no big deal. Two, the gate locks and we have security. Three I'm not 5 feet tall."

"I take offense to that, I'm 5 ft 2. And I have Backup and my Taser. It's all the security I need." Logan just looked at her but refrained from commenting. He put the ice cream back in the freezer and walking over, handed Veronica her bowl. Veronica tried not to notice the loose limbed graceful way he moved, or the way the sweat pants hung low on his hips. She squirmed, kicking her legs against the cabinets, hoping he didn't notice. Grateful for something to do, she shoved a spoonful of deliciousness in her mouth moaning at the awesome taste.

Veronica peeked a look at Logan over the rim of her bowl and noticed now he was the one shifting awkwardly. It was too much, too many memories and emotions. The horror of his secret. Fighting with Logan. She was no longer hungry and she set the ice cream down.

"What are we going to do Logan?"

AN II: Thanks for reading, please leave a comment on your way out!


	5. Chapter 5

ANI: I own nothing but the mistakes of which I'm sure are many. I wrote this while trying to cook dinner and bathe children. The idea just wouldn't leave me alone. Please review it would make my day!

It was a dusky indigo outside, the last vestiges of the dwindling sunlight fading into the encroaching shadows, as Logan considered Veronica's earlier question. It still was unanswered.

It would be a perfect time for Veronica to go, thought Logan. She could get her clothes, leave, maybe time and distance would help him come up with a plan for throwing the tiny blond one off his trail. He'd get her out of his business, out of his life again, do away with this weird truce they seemed to have going on. He opened his mouth to tell her just that. Except what he really said went a little more like this.

"Hey, Ronnie. How about pizza, get some real food here." She looked just as shocked as Logan did, staring at him across the chasm of broken trust and shattered friendships.

"Ahhh, sure," she stammered, still looking at him like he was a really interesting puzzle she was trying to figure out.

Maybe she had expected him to fight harder to get rid of her. Logan kind of did too, except it was so freakin lonely in the big house, and his body was still a raging crescendo of swelling white hot pain. Snarking with Veronica made it easier to forget.

He ought to know, he'd employed the same tactic after Lily had died and Veronica had betrayed them all to stand by her lying accusing father.

She swung her bare legs, delicate feet hitting the counter, before she jumped lightly down. The soft cotton of her borrowed tee-shirt flared up with her sudden movement, swirling dangerously close to her hips. It was like they were frozen, standing less than a foot from each other, both in various states of awkward undress. Logan felt his breathing quicken and his pupils dilate in way that they hadn't since his first time with Lily. It didn't help when Veronica's pink tongue snaked out and moistened her lips. Suddenly his sweat pants felt way too tight.

Veronica was the first to break the heated stare. Her pale skin was flushed a delicate shade of rose. At least he wasn't the only one affected by this really weird standoff and the thought made Logan feel marginally better.

Until she grabbed his hand in hers and tugged him out of the kitchen towards his bedroom. "What the…" he trailed off sounding nothing like his usual eloquent cocky self.

"Relax Logan, I just want to put more salve on your back, grab some more aspirin. Then I guess we can order a pizza. I mean, if you want too. Plus I gotta put my clothes in the wash, I can't keep wearing your shirt forever," she remarked as she briskly led him up the stairs, her hips swaying in from of him like the most delicious metronome he'd ever seen.

He shook his head. What the hell Logan, he told himself, this is Veronica Mars. Enemy, white trash, betrayer of all things fab four. She turned and smiled at him, soft and tentatively as if she could sense the direction his thoughts were going in. Logan forgot to be upset and let himself be pulled into the bathroom.

The bathroom was large, beautifully tiled, with an ornate mirror above the duel pedestal sinks. Veronica backed him up until he felt the cool porcelain of the toilet hit his legs. He sat down, turning sideways, and laying his head down against his crossed arms folded on top of the sink.

Neither of them spoke, the moment too intimate and raw. He felt her touch against his abraded skin as Veronica gently applied the cool cream to his cuts and welts. A hiss escaped between his pressed lips and he flinched slightly.

"Sorry," Veronica murmured, her voice soft and sad as she continued in her ministrations.

He couldn't tell her that it wasn't the pain that caused him to flinch. Sure, it hurt, but pain he could handle. He'd been schooled in it from an early age. It was her touch. It was soft and caring. Logan had been with many women, been touched by many, in all different kinds of ways. But never quite so innocently and gentle. Even Lily had been sure and confident, using him however she felt like. He wasn't complaining, Logan was just as teenage and hormonal as the rest of the male population. But, Veronica's touch was different. He wasn't quite sure how to interpret it. No one touched him without wanting something in return.

"All done, Logan," spoke Veronica. Turning she put away the cream and wiped her hands on the hand towel. She left the bathroom and Logan trailed after her, still lost in his thoughts. Veronica padded lightly along the carpet into Logan's room, stepping gingerly around piles of clothes, books, and the discarded alcohol bottle. "I'll just go throw these in the wash and your order the pizza okay?"

"Alright," he answered. He needed to get back on kilter, needed to find his sarcastic defense mechanisms again. Jesus, she was going to have him eating chocolate and painting his toe nails pretty soon. He needed to hit something, drink something, or fuck something. Unfortunately he was locked in a house with Veronica Mars and he was still wearing Aaron's badge of horror. It didn't leave him with many options.

Shrugging his shoulders, ignoring the way it pulled his still healing skin, Logan ordered the pizza. He settled in to wait for Nancy Drew to make it back from her hired help pilgrimage, ankles crossed comfortably as he sat on the bed. Logan put on the radio, anxious for anything to fill the suddenly oppressive silence, and let the low bluesy guitar and soft subtle beats carry him away.

He really wanted to know what secrets little miss secret finder was keeping. What was Ronnie referring to earlier about being damaged? Logan would bet his black amex card that he'd never get her to tell though. Unless he had something she wanted in return, a secret for a secret maybe? Veronica popped back in, head peakinghesitantly around the door frame, before she came all the way into his bedroom.

"Ohh, The Black Keys, somehow I wouldn't have taken you for a fan," she said as she perched on the edge of the bed opposite from where Logan sat.

"Why, only tortured heartbroken people can enjoy the blues, think I'm too much of a jackass to appreciate great rock and roll when I hear it? Now who's stereotyping who?"

"Shut up, Logan. Don't get your panties in a twist, I just didn't think we'd have anything in common anymore. Not your usual style if I remember correctly."

"Well people change," he murmured softly, meeting her eyes briefly.

"Some people do, and maybe some people you never really knew at all," Veronica shot back reminding Logan why she was his favorite verbal sparring partner. She fiddled with her hair before asking, "Is the pizza coming?"

"Yes, Ronnie. I ordered enough to feed a small army, otherwise known as you. How else are we gonna make sure your birthing hips stay in shape for all those rugrats you're going to raise in a double wide someday?"

"Well, I'm such a gold digging ho, maybe I'll raise them in your pool house instead." The banter was back but the bite was missing. Veronica's eyes were glowing, almost as if she appreciated the return to a shade of their normalcy as much as Logan did.

"Wanna play a game," asked Logan.

"Seriously, like hungry hungry hippo or something."

"Chill out V, the pizza's coming. No, I was thinking more like a question for a question. You only get 5 questions, and one pass. And you have to tell the truth."

"Why," asked Veronica warily, even as she was practically salivating at getting some answers out of Logan?

"I'm bored."

"Bullshit."

"Ohh Veronica, so lady like." Logan fluttered his eye lashes and pretended to swoon.

"Okay, say I play your game. Nothing leaves this room, and nothing can be used against the other person."

Logan hemmed and hawed, secretly thrilled to have her right where he wanted her. "Deal," he spoke, thrusting his hand out. "Man up, shake on it Veronica."

She rolled her eyes but shook his hand anyway. "Only 5 questions huh…."

"Lady's first," intoned Logan with a saccharine smile willing to play the gentleman to a point.

"What happened to you to give you those welts and bruises?" Logan sucked in a harsh breath at her direct approach then blew it out slowly. It's not like he wasn't expecting her to ask that and he needed to lure her in so he could find out what happened to her. She sort of already knew anyway.

"My dad. He was angry at something I did and he took it upon himself to teach me a lesson."

Veronica blanched at having her suspicions confirmed. "Why," she asked.

"Nahh uhh, my turn now. Why did you betray me and DK after Lily's murder?" He didn't think she could get any paler, but she did. He wasn't lying, he really did want to know. Besides, he didn't think he could start out with the heaviest question. He had to get her to use her pass first.

"He's my dad, Logan. My family. The whole town turned against him, even my own mother. I had to make a choice and at the end of the day, he's my _dad_ Logan." No, Logan didn't know, he'd never felt that way about Aaron. He knew Keith used to be pretty cool, always seemed interested in Veronica's life, helping with homework, and showing up to her school functions. He decided he would think about it.

"Shoot," he said and braced himself.

"What did you do, this particular time, to incur Aaron's lesson?" Damn she was good at being specific with her questions. All in Echolls, he thought grimly. She already hates you.

"I had a threesome with my father's accountant and agent in his bed. I didn't know the accountant taped it, she contacted my dad and threatened to go public unless he paid her off."

"But Logan, you're underage. She's an adult and taping it, that's sexual abuse Logan. Surely he couldn't blame you for grown women mistreating you?"

"He would have applauded me actually had it not cost him money and threatened exposure. And that was your third question." Logan smirked as her jaw locked but she didn't argue with his logic. She gestured to him with her hand.

"Go," she said.

"Who's the first person you had sex with?" He hadn't expected it to be a hard question, he naturally assumed it would be Duncan. Instead her eyes misted and she looked down.

"I don't know," she answered through gritted teeth.

"Why don't you know," he shot back feeling his voice harden with misplaced anger on her behalf. Anger and protectiveness he hadn't felt in a while, had thought it had dissipated actually. Instead, it had been laying dormant, waiting for a tiny blond pixie to light it up.

"Pass," she shot back just as vehemently. "And that's your third question." Just then the bell at the gate rang, signaling the arrival of the pizza.

"I don't want to play anymore," shouted Veronica as she stood up sharply. Her features were oddly stoic and she held her body stiff and contained.

Well, there went that plan, thought Logan. He looked up. "I never took you for a coward, Mars," he said. But she had already left and he was talking to an empty room. Hurting her just didn't seem to feel as good as it used to.

AN II: Please review, I would love to hear your thoughts. What would you guys like to see it this story? Let me know. And thanks again for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

AN I: Real Life is not my friend. I'm hoping I'm still yours. I don't own anything but the mistakes, I own ALL of those! Thank you so much for reading my work, if you're up to it I would love to hear what you have to say…

Veronica flew down the stairs, her breathing ragged and sharp, tears pooling in her eyes. Angrily she wiped the back of her hand across her face, smearing the tears into her skin. He had no right, thought Veronica, to ask me such questions. He was the one who called me, and he is the one who obviously needs help.

Not me…..I'm fine.

"I'm fine," repeated Veronica softly as she sighed and straightened her shoulders. One loud awkward sniff later and she was ready to open the door and get the pizza.

Except…..holy hell batman, Veronica was still encased in Logan's button down and nothing else. She jumped when the doorbell rang again, shrill and insistent. Logan was still upstairs, pouting. He obviously wasn't going to come answer the door, was probably laughing at her predicament right now. Although, in a dark little corner of her heart she didn't blame him for not wanting to answer the door wearing his Brad Pitt fight club costume.

Thinking fast, she whirled to the hall closet and wrenched open the door. Do rich snobby people even keep coats in coat closets, or are they just for decoration, completely functionless, she wondered.

"Just a minute," she called to the impatient pizza delivery guy.

Thankfully there was a tan trench coat shoved in the back, bedraggled and forgotten. Veronica shoved her arms through the sleeves and cinched the belt at the waist. The hem of the coat covered her feet.

_Just go with it Mars._

With her fake it till you make it attitude firmly in place, Veronica opened the door. And was greeted by the sight of Dick and Beaver holding her pizza.

"What the hell," muttered Beaver as Dick looked Veronica up and down, the smirk on his lips implying all sorts of nefarious thoughts.

"Nice, Ronnie," his voice was every bit of surfer dude smashed into frat boy, coupled with the self-entitlement only being Neptune rich could give you. "Did Logan give you a pity fuck?" He snapped his fingers and smirked at Beaver, "The water polo team is out of town for a tournament right?"

"Yep," confirmed Beav, with a nasty little glint in his eye. "So's the majority of the football team."

"Which just leaves Logan, always knew my boy had the stamina to make us proud," remarked Dick. "And he claims to never donate to charity."

Veronica, normally so quick witted and defensive, was having trouble processing that Dick and Beaver were really standing on the front steps, holding _her _pizza nonetheless, and she was practically naked. Briefly she lifted her eyes heavenward, just kill me God now please, she thought. Her repressed tears from earlier threatened to fall again right as her stomach growled.

"Aww, Ronnie," spoke Dick, running one finger down her cheek, " did you work up an appetite." Both boys stepped over the threshold causing her to stumble back. "Hey Beav," threw Dick over his shoulder. "If Veronica is throwing out freebies, maybe she can hook you up next, cure that dry spell and all." Beaver flushed a deep red and didn't respond.

Veronica, however, had enough and spun on her heel to get away. She was too open, too fresh, and too vulnerable to protect herself. All she could think about was getting away. To do that she needed to get upstairs and get her purse complete with the required car keys. Screw waiting for her clothes, she just wanted out.

Warm hands grabbed her roughly and spun her around, backing her up non to gently against the wall. Dick leaned in close, invading her personal space. Veronica, screamed and shoved at Dick, small hands beating ineffectually against the surfer's toned body. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, shuddery non-memories of her assault crowded her with their questions and implications. She couldn't breathe, much less concentrate on his obscene mumblings against her ear.

"Ohh you're a feisty one huh, little blond hellcat. Betcha like it rough," he murmured. "What'cha have on under the coat? Were you role playing?" Dick slid one hand between the folds of the trench coat and up Veronica's exposed leg. The panic in Veronica's ears was so loud she barely heard Logan's indignant rage filled roar.

"What the hell are you doing?" Logan grabbed Dick and pulled him off of Veronica. He threw him down to the ground and stood glaring over him, chest still bruised, heaving with his exertion, his eyes dark and menacing. Beaver stood back, holding the pizza, unsure of what to do.

"What the hell, man," groused Dick from the floor. "We were just having some fun. Christ," Dick looked indignantly at Logan, as he climbed to his feet, "you fucked her, why can't I?"

Logan reared back and punched Dick hard and fast in the jaw. Dick went down like all the gravity in the room had just been outlawed, instantaneously.

"Don't talk to her, don't touch her, and don't think about her. Understood?"

"I _don't_ understand," whined Dick. "One day you say she's out and we gotta hate her, then the next day you can be with her, but no one else. It's really hard being your evil henchman when I'm not in on the plan bro." Dick jerked his shoulder indicating Beaver, who was still trying to gauge Logan's reactions with wide eyes. "Not to mention the minion over there, he's even more confused than I am."

"Shut up, Dick," muttered Beaver without any real heat. He did relax his stance though, as Logan reached down to help Dick up.

"Look, what are you even doing here, and why are you holding my pizza?"

"Paid the guy on the way up, we're hungry man. Besides, I hadn't heard from you and I know…..you know. Shit," Dick shoved a hand through his hair. "This is verging into chick flick territory. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Yeah," put in Beaver, "like if you needed anything."

"You know, cause sometimes you're not alright, man." Even though we never talk about it, thought Dick darkly.

Logan briefly shit his eyes, he'd forgotten his appearance. He'd heard Veronica scream and all rational thought had left his brain. The fear that Aaron had somehow come back home, that he was hurting Veronica, however unrealistic that was, sent Logan flying out of the room. Next thing he knew, he saw Dick pressed up against Ronnie, and she looked terrified. He'd seen red after that.

Lots and lots of red. Looks like fits of violent rage were genetic after all.

"I'm fine." Or not, but no one else needed to know that. Logan wasn't the son of two actors for nothing.

"Sure man," Dick was making his way to the kitchen, munching on a piece of pizza, the altercation already leaving his memory. "So why was the trailer trash here?" He looked at Logan out of the corner of his eye, "you weren't really doing her, were ya? Cause I guess, Beav and I can go; give you some privacy to finish slumming in peace."

Logan grimaced and tried to count to 10 in his head, _I will not punch Dick again, I will not punch Dick again…_ "Dude, we were not sleeping together. We're having a truce of sorts right now so back the fuck off."

Beaver snorted, always glad to see someone put Dick in his place. Dick held up his hands, placating towards Logan. "Okay, loud and clear bro. Backing off. Can we get a drink and eat some pizza now?"

Logan sighed and shoved his hands through his hair again.

"Where is little Ronnikins anyway?" Dick's question hung awkwardly in the air as Logan spun around frantically searching for Veronica.

She wouldn't leave right? Wait, I want her to leave. He bit his lip hard enough to taste blood. She knows my secret, I want her to go. But Logan couldn't even lie to himself effectively. No, I really don't and I'm not gonna think about why that is right now. Logan forgot about the pain, as he forced his bruised and battered body upstairs, searching for Veronica. He entered his room half expecting to find her huddled on his bed, waiting. Complaining that she was hungry and that he better hurry up with the pizza.

But, his room was empty. She said she wouldn't bail, he reminded himself. But the room was empty and her purse was gone.

Slowly, dread deep in his bones, Logan walked with heavy steps over to the window. Veronica's car was gone. She must have slipped out the back while he was busy with Dick and Beaver. Logan's shoulders slumped dejectedly.

He didn't even want her here. This was a good thing.

So why did it hurt so shockingly bad, that even after swearing she wouldn't leave him, she did.

"Cause, everybody leaves Echolls. You ought to know that by now." He let the curtains fall back into place and turned to go downstairs. Might as well have a damn drink with Dick and Beaver.

What else was he supposed to do?

AN II: Wasn't quite sure where I was going with this, but Dick wouldn't stop talking. I've always liked Dick Jr even though he was a jerk in the beginning. I needed to get LoVe out of the house anyway, break out of the stalemate. Please read and review and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

AN I: Hello, I am ashamed at how long it has been between updates. I am so sorry, real life included me starting a new job and the computer getting a mega mean virus on it. But we should be settling back to normal now. So, all mistakes are mine, I own nothing. I am eager for your thoughts, tell me where you want this story to go, what you would like to see. I have a basic outline in my head, but love your ideas too. Happy reading! Thank you for taking the time to read and review!

Veronica sat shivering, huddled on the floor of her cramped and tiny shower. She couldn't stop shaking. The water had long since grown cold, never having had the most reliable water temperatures anyway. Her delicate skin was red from the abusive cleansing she'd given herself trying in vain to remove phantom hands and imagined fingers.

She felt dirty.

Veronica couldn't stop shaking no matter how many times she told herself that Veronica Mars didn't shake, she didn't cry, she sure as hell didn't run away and hide in her shower. What had started as fine tremors running through her limbs as she drove home had grown into full body shudders by the time she tried to find solace in the act of cleaning herself, causing soap to slip through Veronica's fingers and her sodden blond hair to smack against the tiles.

This is crazy, Veronica told herself. The rape happened over a year ago, and she didn't even remember the actual act. She was safe, she was fine, and she was a kick ass bitch in awesome black boots. No one messed with Veronica Mars.

Except Dick's fingers was been bruising, his grip tight, his breath hot against her face. And in that moment all of Veronica's self-made awareness regarding her strength and fortitude slipped away leaving her bare in the stark realization that Dick could do anything he wanted. And Veronica, kick ass or not, couldn't do a thing about it.

He was strong, she was weak.

He was large, she was tiny.

He didn't care about Veronica at all, affording him the ruthless demeanor of the truly rich, and Veronica's Taser had been upstairs.

Veronica moaned as her stomach rolled again, having nothing to throw up, but unhappily moving nonetheless. She laid her forehead on her drawn up knees, letting the water beat down on her neck and back. Her toes were wrinkly, with an almost bluish tint to the nails and skin.

So, this is what shock is…hmmmmm, been here before, though Veronica, as she let loose a hiccupping half laugh. Great, even her thoughts were taking a slightly hysterical edge. That meant she should probably get out, dry off, and try and forget that this ever happened. Except, she was shaking too much to lever herself out of the shower. Veronica could take this memory, she could shove it into her own Pandora's Box of things to never think about. Lily's death and Logan's betrayal were in there, along with Shelly Pomroy's party. If she could do that, maybe she could be fine again, whatever fine was passing for in her vocabulary these days.

Oh God, Logan.

He'd been so hurt and she left him there. He had saved her and she left him. The look in his eyes when she told him she wouldn't leave, as if he couldn't bring himself to believe her. Compared to the look on his face as he had ripped her out of Dick's hands, it had been equally as provoking in the depth of rage displayed across his handsome features. Logan's eyes had looked alive, like they were fighting…..for her.

It had been so long since anyone had been willing to fight for her.

So long since she had had the firestorm that was Logan directed at her with anything more than the malicious intent of late.

More hot tears slipped out, intermingling with the freezing cascade of the shower. Veronica had been so scared, her higher reasoning shutting down, the mantra of get away slamming through her brain with such a ferocity that she'd been halfway home before she even became aware she was driving.

Grasping at Logan's pain like the broken straw it was, Veronica crawled out of the shower on all fours. Her teeth were chattering so hard, she tasted blood, when she accidently caught her bottom lip between them. She took as deep a breath as she could, swallowed once, and then shoving the wet hair out of her eyes.

Veronica stood up.

She braced her weight against the vanity and reached one tremulous hand to turn off the water.

Her dad was going to freak when he got the water bill for this month.

She grabbed her robe and wrapped herself in the giant terry cloth. It was familiar and the warm fuzzy fibers against her abraded skin was exactly what she needed to calm down and focus on someone else's problem.

Veronica was an excellent avoider, the last few hours had not happened because she said they had not. Logan needed her, she still didn't know if he was safe in the house. What if Aaron was there? What if he was hurting Logan right now?

Almost trance like, Veronica walked to her closet. She had a goal, she was going to go to Logan and make sure he was alright. She'd promised him.

Nerveless fingers gripped the chipped handle to the dresser, as she pulled out underwear and socks. Next, she put on her favorite pair of jeans and a tank top, followed by a worn grey Henley, lastly she pulled on her dad's old padre sweatshirt. The added layers of clothing made her feel a sense of protection, not to mention she was still freezing.

Mechanically, Veronica brushed out her hair, and tied it back into a ponytail. She found her shoes and shoved her feet into them, not bothering to tie the fraying laces. It was almost symbolic, dirty frayed laces, dirty frayed life.

Attempting to shake the maudlin off, Veronica turned to her desk, reaching for her purse and keys.

Self-destruct later, help Logan now…

Veronica couldn't verbalize exactly why she felt the burning need to help Logan after everything that had passed between them. Maybe it had been the ripped agony Aaron painted across Logan's skin, or the empty desolate look in his eyes as he admitted to the abuse. All of this aside, the good memories from her years with the fab four, ran gently in her mind. An undercurrent of friendships and first loves. It was almost as if she could hear Lily's voice urging her to go to Logan, whispering,  
"You're stronger together Veronica Mars, you need each other."

Oh Lily, strong enough in death to haunt you with the same tenacity she'd shown in life.

"Okay, Lily," murmured Veronica, "I'll go to him. But he's not forgiven yet."

Veronica padded on threadbare carpet down the hallway. She headed towards the door with a clear purpose directing her movements. Slight tremors still intermittently wracked her slim frame, but she ignored them with the single mindedness focus she was so known for.

Veronica pulled the door open and stopped, her momentum crashing down on itself, as shock once again rendered her speechless.

Logan Echolls stood on her front porch, his arms hugging his torso, his expression as unsure of himself as she had ever seen it. Well…this was unexpected. But she could work with this, she didn't have to think, if she was doing.

Stepping back, Veronica gestured Logan in, refusing to flinch at the initial close proximity of another human being. This is Logan, he needs my help, she told herself.

He looked terrible. Bruises were turning purple, blue, and yellow. His self-deprecating smile, looked even more so, with the split in his full bottom lip breaching the classic perfection of his features. Logan's brown eyes were blood shot and puffy, even as he focused them on Veronica.

This was getting awkward, Veronica thought. Somebody better say something. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she spoke, "I was just coming back over, to check on you."

At the same time as Logan spoke, "Are you alright?"

Their words tumbled into each other, colliding in the awkward space between them. Logan gave a half laugh and reached his hand up to run it through his hair, a gesture completely and totally Logan.

Veronica smiled too, starting to feel more in her depth.

"I was thinking, we need to set up a time line. How long before Aaron's back from set? Because, we need to establish a clear pattern of abuse before we file for emancipation of a minor."

Logan's mouth dropped open slightly in the wake of her blond steamroller routine.

Veronica pressed on, "do you have a lawyer separate from your da…oomph." Her breath whooshed out, as Logan grabbed her up in his arms and pressed her body close to his. Veronica felt the familiar planes of his body, angles and dips she'd relearned over the last day, press into her. Finally her limbs stopped shaking, the moment she made contact with Logan, his body heat chasing away the cold, his strength quieting the shakes.

Veronica gave herself just a minute to rest her head, to pull from Logan, take what she didn't want to admit she so desperately needed.

Re-centering herself, Veronica tilted her head upwards to get Logan's attention.

"Logan," she murmured, delicate half whispers on quickened breath. "We need to figure out what to do."

"Shhhh," he admonished, meeting her eyes. "I was so worried about you, and then you were gone."

"I was here," she answered.

"And I found you," he replied.

"Yes," she agreed, "you did."

Logan leaned forward, infinitesimal inch by inch, until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from Veronica's. Slowly, as if to test her reaction, he brushed his lips over Veronica's, once and then twice, before deepening the kiss. He shifted her weight in his arms, bringing their bodies more align with one another's.

Veronica was still surprised, lost in a torrent of feeling and emotion. On one hand, she was still twitchy from the incident earlier. On the other hand, Logan made her feel safe. And, ohh holy crap, Logan was a phenomenal kisser.

Giving into the sharp whiplash of sudden desire, Veronica groaned into Logan's mouth and let herself feel.

AN: Please review, I can't wait to hear from you. It makes my day, seriously! And thank you so much for reading my writing!


	8. Chapter 8

AN I: It's been a while I know...I have no excuses. Thank you for reading my story. I would love a review on your way out. Thanks!

Logan was kissing Veronica, mouth fused to hers, almost desperate in its warm sliding grip. He clutched wide palmed handfuls of worn fabric covering soft skin. Her freshly showered scent wormed through his nose. He couldn't think, his brain always a whirling mass of complexities and subtext simply shut down. No manipulations, no lies, no fear that Aaron was going to kill him.

Just marshmallows and promises.

He gripped Veronica lightly and lifted until she was wrapped around his body, legs firmly locked around his waist. Holding her full weight easily, Logan kicked at the door, hearing it shut as he maneuvered towards the couch. He never once broke contact with Veronica's warm lips, swallowing her breathy sounds as soon as she made them. The pain, courtesy of Aaron's twisted sense of fatherly duty, receded to the back of his mind. Dick and Beaver were already forgotten. Even Veronica's flight of frenzy was ignored.

Only Veronica and Logan, together. He'd always been really good at living in the moment. And, what a moment!

Holy shit he was kissing Veronica Mars, and he liked it!

God, did he ever like it. The skin pulled on his back, and he fought down a surprised hiss as Veronica's small teeth accidently nipped at a still healing tear in his full bottom lip. The slight intake of air rippled into her mouth and Veronica jumped before she then paused, leaning her head shakily against Logan's shoulder. Her breathing was just as ragged as his. He could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, the only sound in the small darkening apartment.

The air was thick with tension, seeped with an attraction neither had been expecting, or necessarily wanted. But neither could deny its existence, not now.

With gentle hands, Logan smoothed back Veronica's hair, wanting to sooth the fine tremors he could feel racking her small frame. Her hair was heavy with moisture, the strands naturally wavy, curling around his fingers. Holding Veronica was different than holding Lily, she was smaller, more slender, and less curvy. Her scent was all the more powerful due to its unobtrusive elusiveness.

With Lily, he'd always been thinking, calculating, because he had known she was as well.

If I touch her this way, she will do this. And expect that.

With Veronica, Logan was flying by the seat of his pants, diving headfirst into uncharted territory. She was hiding something, he knew it. And Logan had his fair share of secrets too. But touching Veronica Mars, all tortured history aside, felt like the most honest interaction he'd ever had. Which was an amazing feeling to the emotionally and physically abused son of two vapid self-centered movie stars.

Veronica, for her part was confused as hell. She prided herself on being the one in the room with the plan, always being in control. She had plan A's and plan B's, contingencies and angles. But kissing Logan, feeling his arms around her, seemed to wipe her brain out. Veronica felt shock at how not horrible kissing Logan had been. Given her experience last year, she thought she'd just never feel comfortable opening that part of herself up again. And the events with Dick and Beaver had just further driven home how defective she really was.

The 09's had won, Veronica felt broken.

But, in Logan's arms she hadn't felt dirty. She'd even forgotten momentarily she was supposed to feel that way. It was only now, in the booming silence that her insecurities stuttered to life, demanding homage. When Logan had touched her, she hadn't been scared, she hadn't felt lost, or used.

She'd felt safe. She'd felt beautiful

And really, what the hell was she supposed to make out of that? This was Logan, her most hated enemy, bitter arch nemesis. She could never let him know just how good it felt to be around him, to let him understand would give him power over her. And Veronica felt she'd given enough over the past year, bleed enough, cried enough. So, when she wanted to snuggle into Logan, utter words of warmth, she instead made herself push away.

Only, if she stood by herself, would she know how strong she really was. This couldn't be about Veronica, this had to be about saving Logan. Nothing more, nothing less.

Aaron Echolls needed to pay for what he'd done.

"What's the matter," asked Logan, trepidation filling his voice at her sudden shift in distance away from him. He felt cold by himself, the angry welts on his back screaming loud and long for his attention. Something was the matter, he could tell by the look in her eyes.

"Logan, how long do you have until your parents are back from the new location?"

"I don't know, a few days maybe, a week, depending on how the initial scenes go." His eyes said everything he wouldn't and Veronica refused to let herself feel guilty as she scooted even further away.

This is Logan freaking Echolls, she reminded herself, and he'll only hurt you. It was hard to tell herself that though as pictures of Logan broken and bleeding kept flitting across her mind's eye and the sensation of Logan's kiss kept ghosting across her lips.

"Well, obviously you can't stay there and let him keep hurting you Logan," bit Veronica sarcastically, attempting to keep herself from jumping back into Logan's arms.

Disbelief and hurt warred across his expressive features as he just stared at Veronica. "_Let _him hurt me, are you serious? As if I ever _let _him do anything."

"No, that didn't come out right, it's not what I meant," murmured Veronica trying to diffuse the situation.

But Logan barreled on, real true emotion driving his words, as secrets he'd kept bottled up his whole life burst out in broken discarded fragments. "Let him, like I said hey Dad go ahead and beat me, it'll make me feel like a real man. Use the belt, Dad, that one's my favorite. Or maybe when I was five I asked him to break my arm. I bet when I was eight, I asked him to hold my head underwater and laugh while I sputtered and choked. I asked when I was twelve to have the daylights beaten out of me and cigarettes put out on my bare skin. Yeah, Dad, thanks for that lesson. I really needed you to teach me how to be a man."

Logan was angry and hurt, he didn't even fell the tears cascading down his face.

"God, Logan," started Veronica. "That's…."

"My life," he finished hotly. "Who are you to judge?" He reached over and lifted Veronica off the couch. She was too surprised to protest, as he slammed her back in to cushions, levering himself over her, fingers bruising her flesh even as his tortured gaze burned into hers. "Do you want to _let _me do this Veronica? Could you stop me?"

His breath was hot against her face and his tears continued to fall, dripping warm salt over her pale and drawn cheeks. Veronica wanted to help Logan, but she'd screwed up, said the wrong thing….and now he was starting to scare her. Gone was his comforting presence. Over her loomed a man, beaten down, but very much capable of violence. She shivered and Logan caught the movement.

"Could you stop me, Veronica, could you?" he repeated.

"No," cried out Veronica, "no I couldn't. Please stop Logan, you're hurting me." She whimpered as real sensations of pain cursed down her arms radiating from his iron grip. "Please," she whispered.

All of Logan's weight suddenly disappeared and Veronica dragged in shaky breaths in his absence.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, what have I done?" Logan was pressed against the arm of the couch, rocking and forth, movements jerky and stilted. "I'm just like him, I really am just like him." He looked at Veronica and laughed a hysterically. "I guess it's all in the blood."

Veronica didn't know what to say, what Aaron had done to Logan was horrible, absolutely horrific. But she wasn't without her own demons and Logan has scared her. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, frozen in place. She still hadn't moved, she didn't know what to do.

Logan moaned and lurched off the couch running down the hall. Veronica leapt up, freed from her previous paralysis, shaken to the core that he might think suicide was a good option again. She scrambled thinking of her Dad's gun case in his room. But, that wasn't where Logan was headed.

He careened into the tiny hall bathroom and threw himself to his knees. Throwing up the cracked toilet seat lid with none of his usual grace, Logan dry heaved like he was trying to see his own intestines. He was crying and heaving and choking, God, he couldn't breathe. All he could think was I'm a monster, just like Aaron.

Tentatively, Veronica entered the bathroom and placed a hand lightly between his shoulder blades. They were so fucked, both of them, apart and together.

How Neptunian of them, she thought.

With nothing to come up, Logan finally calmed his stomach and sat back against the cool tiles, resting his face on his drawn up knees. He had nothing left to cry, nothing left to give. He had nothing.

He knew Veronica was in the room, but he couldn't look at her. Logan couldn't believe that he'd snapped and lost control like that, after Dick, after everything. Did his father snap once too? Was that how it had started?

Oops, it won't happen again son, I promise. Until it did. Until Aaron didn't even bother to apologize, instead hiding his actions behind _lessons_. Until his mother no longer responded to his screams.

Until Logan learned not to cry.

He flinched when Veronica sank down on her knees next to him. He closed his eyes, never making a sound, when she wrapped her arms around him drawing his head down onto her breast.

"I didn't let him, Veronica. I never let him." The words came out raw and honest, his voice broken.

"I know Logan, I never let them either." She ran a hand through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. "We'll fix this Logan, I promise."

He didn't tell her it wouldn't work, he'd tried telling when he was little, and it never worked. Instead, he fisted a tired hand in her shirt and held on for his life.

Curled around each other on Veronica's tiny bathroom floor, Logan and Veronica cried together.

AN II: Whew...that was intense. I'd love to hear from you!


End file.
